Pirates of the Caribbean: Chasing the Deception
by Indigo Intrigue
Summary: After Barbossa's Black Pearl, the Deception rises as the new terror in the Caribbean. They kidnap the governor to reach a legendary treasure; Will, Elizabeth, and everyone's favorite captain set sail in pursuit. But things are not always what they seem...
1. Beginning

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WELCOME. To the new story of Indigo Intrigue, an angel who did not so much fall as saunter vaguely downwards. Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle, because it's going to be rough.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to me. *receives swift kick in nether regions* I mean, nothing belongs to me but the plot, and, of course, the characters you don't recognize.

All future author's notes will be in bold.

Don't stop reading because it begins with Elizabeth and the governor. It gets better. I give you my word as an author.

Review at the end, if you feel like it. (And I hope you do.) Constructive criticism is always appreciated, flames will be used to keep me warm in those chilly winter months

Many, many thanks to ThePenMage for her magnificent beta-ing. I love you! *huggles*

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Chapter One

Beginning

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"Elizabeth?"

Weatherby Swann, governor of Port Royal, paused at the bottom of the stairs. He frowned, expecting a response from his daughter. When one didn't come, he called again. "Elizabeth? Are you awake?"

"A moment!" The reply rang out, slightly muffled due to a closed door.

"Ahh, good," Swann commented, beginning to climb the stairs. "I'd hoped you were." He motioned two package-laden servants to follow him up the stairs.

Upon reaching the second floor, Swann was slightly exasperated to find that Elizabeth had not yet emerged from her room — after all, a daughter should be ready to greet her father. He rapped irritably on the door. "What are you doing in there? Are you decent?"

The door opened with a flourish. "I am now!" Elizabeth Swann declared good-naturedly. A maid behind her glanced at the governor while hanging an embroidered dressing gown.

Swann smiled, the picture of a proud father. His Elizabeth had grown up well, into a fine young lady, and fit for society as well. If only—

Elizabeth's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Father, was there a reason you sought me out? Or did you just want to stand in front of me and think of other things?" she teased gently.

Shaking his head slightly to clear it, the governor answered. "No, there is a purpose to my call. Your new gowns arrived from Paris this morning — I was hoping, if you weren't otherwise occupied, you could begin the fittings today, to make sure everything is in order for Founder's Day. It _is_ less than a week away, you know"

"Actually," Elizabeth began, "I am a bit busy. I was planning on going down to the market. I need a new, uh mirror. My old one is too small. I can't see my whole head when I look in it." She looked expectantly at her father.

"Elizabeth," the governor chuckled. "That's what servants are for! Send" He glanced at the maid, who was now tidying up. "Send Emily to find you a mirror, and remain for your fitting!"

"Emily doesn't have very good taste," Elizabeth protested. Emily shook her head, hiding a smile. "I must insist on going myself."

The governor sighed. "I suppose—" He broke off suddenly, looking at her sharply. One of her plainer dresses, comfortable shoes, cosmetics carefully applied to her face

Swann's face darkened. "You don't need a new mirror," he said quietly.

Elizabeth looked away.

His suspicions confirmed, the governor spoke again. "You're going to see _him_."

Elizabeth met his gaze defiantly. "And what if I am?" she countered, a fire smoldering in her dark brown eyes. "Father, you of all people know that Will and I have been courting for over eight months! It's hardly improper for me to want to visit him! What _is_ improper is the fact that you still won't use his name! 

She took a breath, visibly trying to compose herself. "Father," she continued more calmly, "You've known Will for years. You were fond of him once. Why does your opinion change now that he's courting me?" She shook her head.

Weatherby Swann closed his eyes in a long blink. While he had accepted Will's "love" and Elizabeth's attraction originally, he had believed it to be a thing of the moment. He had been convinced that, given time, their relationship would fall apart as their devotion faded. Giving in to his willful daughter's wish had seemed most diplomatic at the time. But now — eight months! — he was beginning to regret his decision.

He could hardly tell Elizabeth. "Mr. Turner has shown that he has a penchant for obstinacy and rash decisions. I'm only worried about how those traits will affect you—"

His daughter's eyes darkened. "You gave your blessing on the day he made his intentions known, knowing his character and his past. You can hardly withdraw it now." Elizabeth stalked past him. "I'll attend the fitting later."

"Elizabeth!" Swann cried, clearly aggravated. His daughter whirled to face him. _Choose your battles_ he thought. Resigned, he sighed and told her, "At least take a chaperone. It is unsuitable for you to be alone with him."

"Fine." Her response was laced with suppressed wrath. "I'll see if anyone can be spared." And with that, Elizabeth Swann hurried angrily down the stairs.

The governor shook his head. He addressed the two silent manservants, still faithfully carrying their burdens. "Put the boxes in her room." Walking to the entrance of his suite, he added, "I'm not to be disturbed unless it's an emergency," and shut the door.

***

Elizabeth walked down the stairs, fuming. These turbulent bouts with her father were getting more and more frequent, and each time her anger arose quicker. The anger itself came from different sources, not the least of which was frustration.

She had hoped, eight months ago, that marriage would be in her near future. She loved Will, and knew that he loved her, and nothing would have made her happier than to wed him. But Will proved to be almost shy in how he was going about courting her. Now that their relationship was at least somewhat official, he seemed awkward and unsure around her, more often than she liked. It happened most when they were around other people; when they were alone, he was usually perfectly normal.

It was when they were alone that she enjoyed being with Will the most. She loved the tenderness he showed her, appreciated his sharp wit and admired his intelligence. And the kisses they exchanged were always skin-tingling experiences she longed to repeat.

In part, she believed that his work was becoming an increasingly difficult burden to bear. After returning to Port Royal following their adventures on the high seas, Will had opened his own blacksmith shop, specializing in swordsmithing. Once Master Brown's customers realized that the smith behind their swords was not Brown, but Will, the jobs flew in. Even with an apprentice, John, to handle the mundane blacksmithing tasks such as horseshoes and handles, Will often worked late into the night to complete an order, cutting into their time together even more.

And her father's recent attitude towards Will had become decidedly frosty, for reasons Elizabeth couldn't (or didn't want to) acknowledge. It was just another reason why she liked being alone with him, although her father had recently begun to require a chaperone to accompany her whenever she went to visit Will.

Elizabeth realized she had been standing at the bottom of the stairs for several minutes, with her father's manservants standing patiently behind her, not wanting to disturb her. "Oh!" she exclaimed, moving away. "I'm sorry! I– I forgot what I was doing."

"It's not a problem, Miss Elizabeth," murmured one of them — George, he was called — before sidling away.

Remembering her original intention, Elizabeth made her way to the kitchen. Sticking her head in the door, she found the cooks taking a moment of rest before beginning the luncheon. Knowing that Elizabeth was not as concerned with formalities as her father was, they remained seated.

Most of the hired help in the governor's house liked the young lady well enough — she was always kind with them, and took care to give them an extra shilling whenever it could be spared. Some of them had been with her since she was a small child, coming with her family from England – including one of the cooks, named Emma.

"Excuse me," she began. "Can any of you be spared to escort me to Mr. Turner's shop?"

Emma replied, "Sarah's at the market, Miss Elizabeth, picking up food for supper." The other cook, Alice, hid a smile.

Elizabeth smiled herself. "I see. How long do you expect her to be gone?"

"I'd say another two hours, at least," answered Emma.

"Wonderful!" Elizabeth paused, then grinned. "I'm glad we understand each other." She ducked back out the door, so preoccupied with thoughts of the next few hours that she didn't hear the quiet chuckles of the cooks.

Elizabeth gave herself fifteen minutes for the walk to the shop either way, which added up to an hour and a half she got to spend with Will. She grinned again, this time in anticipation; it had been a few days since she had been alone with him.

The banging noises began at fifty feet from the shop; the smell of hot metal at ten feet. Upon reaching the door, Elizabeth pushed it open quietly.

Will stood with his back to the door, pounding a sword into shape on the anvil. Each blow began high above his head, bringing the hammer down to shape the blade with expert ability. Sparks flew as he worked, and Elizabeth stood for a moment in the doorway, admiring his skill as well as his strength.

When Will shoved the piece of metal back into the forge, she made her presence known. "I love watching you work," she announced, walking down a small set of stairs to the shop's floor.

Will whirled around, startled. When he saw who it was, his dark eyes lit up, and he walked to greet her. "Hello," he said quietly, taking her hands in his.

"And to you," returned Elizabeth. She took her hand from his and put it to his face, tracing his jawline. Will's arm slid around the small of her back, and he pulled her to him, gently sliding his lips over hers.

Warm shivers ran over Elizabeth's body as Will pulled her close, melding their bodies together. He was still warm from the heat of the forge, and he smelled like metal. Elizabeth found she didn't care. Her hands found their way to the back of his neck, twining in his black locks as he rubbed her back in tiny circles. Elizabeth lost track of time, content in his embrace.

Finally, they broke apart, breathing a little more heavily for the greeting. "Why, Mr. Turner," said Elizabeth lightly. "Do you greet everyone who comes into your shop like that?"

"I've missed you," he explained, smiling.

"And I you," she replied softly. They exchanged another quick kiss.

"So!" Elizabeth said, breaking away. "What is it that keeps you so busy?"

Will cleared his throat and strode to the forge. He lifted a finished sword. "Ten of these," he answered, offering her the handle. She took it and smiled; it was perfectly balanced. Taking a closer look at the sword, she gasped. Gold filigree was inlaid into the handle in an intricate design, as well as ten perfect rubies in a circle around the hilt. Each sword also had initials picked out in silver and inlaid into the handle.

"What are they for?" she asked, awed.

"Founder's Day." Will rolled his eyes. "A special order, put in by the governor himself. Something about honoring the captains of his finest ships."

"Oh," Elizabeth said, suddenly dismayed. "From my father. Will, how long does it take you to make one of these?"

Will shrugged while furrowing his brow in thought. "I don't know about a day and a half, I'd say."

Elizabeth didn't answer. Perhaps she was being unfair, but was it pure coincidence that caused her father to put in a demanding order just as he began to continually protest their courtship?

"Elizabeth?" Will gently touched her cheek. "Is something the matter? You look troubled."

She shook her head, catching his hand. "No, it's– It's nothing." She smiled. "Now, we have an hour and a half before I'll be missed. Can we go somewhere, or"

Will was already shaking his head sadly. "This order is just too big. And it must be finished by Tuesday! I really must keep working."

"Very well," said Elizabeth, hiding her disappointment. "I'll stay here and watch you. I love to watch you work."

"You already said that," Will told her, smiling.

"Which only makes it doubly true. Now, get to work!" She shooed him on, and laughing, he picked up the hammer and drew a cherry-red blade from the forge.

***

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Meanwhile, somewhere in the Caribbean

"Here it is."

The voice was soft, stunned. A young man leaned over the dusty pages of an open book, reading aloud. "In 1686 a man named Jean Goudreau, captain of the _Cardinal_, found an as-yet-uncharted island, located at 69 west longitude, 15 north latitude. He found naught but a cave, and a door in the cave, and an inscription over the door reading, 'Seek ye out the Kings of Port Royal.' Behind the door, he claimed to have heard horrible shrieking. He left the island after three days and refused to have anything more to do with it, calling it the 'Isle des Ames Perdues.'"

"The Island of Lost Souls. How poetic." The speaker was a tall woman with long red hair. She moved to the young man, running a long fingernail down the side of his face. He shivered. "What does it mean by the Kings of Port Royal?" the woman asked softly.

He shrugged nervously. "Probably what's needed to open the door. The Kings of Port Royal Port Royal doesn't have any kings. Most likely, it means we need the highest ranking authority from Port Royal."

"And why might that be?" She ran her fingers through his hair.

"H– He probably has some old heirloom key that opens the door" the young man whispered.

"You've done an excellent job, James. You found the island!" she whispered, bending close to his ear. Her tongue flicked out and licked it, and he flinched and turned away.

Suddenly, the woman straightened. She strode to the door of the cabin, threw it open, and shouted, "We've got us an island, me 'earties!" A clamorous roar set up from the decks. "But first," she continued. Immediate silence set in. "We've a stop to make."

"Where're we goin', Cap'n?" someone called loudly.

The woman grinned, her lips setting into an expression that was both predatory and dangerous. "Port Royal." She paused. "We're to find ourselves the governor."

***

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Well, there it was! I hope you liked it, because I really liked writing it. Please review! Tell me what you thought!

–Lydia


	2. Explanations and A Request

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Hmmm. I had about the best possible dream ever last night. I was (take a wild guess) a pirate, and I was roaming around on the sea with _Captain_ Jack Sparrow. There was this scary person with no face who was chasing us, and I got shot, and Jack got shot too, and I thought he was dead so I kissed him ( I remember the beard felt funny) but it turned out he wasn't dead after all, or something the dream has kind of faded since this morning. But I woke up feeling abandoned. And yet extremely, extremely happy.

In any case, yay! New chapter! And some much needed background information. Good on me! Read on!

Much lovey and squooshies to ThePenMage for her absolutely brilliant beta-ing. Mwah! :*

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Chapter Two

Explanations and A Request

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Three days later, on board the Deception

The captain stood on the upper deck of her ship. She grinned crazily, the wind and spray flinging her hair into long copper streamers. A single ruby glinted, set into her canine.

"Thatcher!" she cried, her voice lifting above the sounds of the ship. The helmsman looked up. "How long to Port Royal?"

Frowning as he thought, Thatcher answered after a few seconds. "I'd say, oh, 'bout a day, Cap'n Demon. Mayhap even less, with the wind bein' so 'elpful."

"Good," Demon muttered to herself. Suddenly she clapped her hands together like a child. "Oh, I can't wait!"

She spun and walked silently back into her cabin. The young man was still inside, sitting on a chair with his head in his hands.

"James," she whispered.

His head flew up, eyes open, and he looked wildly around before focusing on her.

"Tell it again, James," she commanded softly. "One more time."

James licked his lips. "Please, Captain," he said. "Some water would help."

Demon's face twisted. She launched herself at his chair and backhanded him across the mouth, her numerous rings leaving immediate red welts. "No, James," she said gently, sitting down on his lap. "You get water when I say you get water. You don't get to ask. Remember?"

James nodded powerlessly, a tear trickling out of his eye and mingling with the blood on his cheek. Demon touched a finger to the blood and brought it to her mouth, daintily licking it clean. "Tell me, James," she said. "Tell me again."

Closing his eyes before he began, the boy began to speak.

"Sixty years ago, the most fearsome pirates in the Caribbean sailed on the _Crimson Shadow._ Captained by the infamous Francis Mansfield, the _Shadow_ made her berth on an unknown island, located somewhere in the Caribbean. They plundered and raided all over these islands, and stowed every last coin in their hidden lair. No one could catch them; they were a legend, a ghost story a shadow.

"They pillaged Port Royal but once, taking everything they could find. Raping and killing, burning and looting, leaving the city demolished behind them.

"But they made one mistake. Their one fatal mistake.

"One of the girls they raped and killed was the daughter of the captain of the _Swift_, a ship in the Royal Navy. The captain vowed revenge, and paid an oracle an unimaginable amount to enter a trance, find the island, and tell him where it was. With the location in hand, the captain gathered his finest men and went after the _Shadow_ – and the oracle came with them.

"Upon reaching the island, they found a door in a cave – the entrance to the pirates' treasure. The captain slammed the door shut, and with the help of the oracle, cursed the pirates to remain trapped for eternity, alone with their gold and jewels. He left the island, abandoning the pirates to their fate.

"But the story does not end there.

"One pirate had been left behind in Port Royal, knocked unconscious after being hit by a falling piece of rock. He awoke and began gathering the wisps of rumor surrounding the rest of his crew. Appalled by what he found, he sought the same oracle, begging her to tell him how to break the curse. She wouldn't tell, or perhaps she didn't know. Just as the man was about to give up hope, the oracle entered into an abrupt and unplanned trance, saying only, 'Seek ye out the Kings of Port Royal.'

"For reasons unknown, the man didn't do as the oracle commanded. Instead, he stole a small boat and sailed back to the island, carving the words above the door. Perhaps there were more pirates that were left behind, or perhaps he didn't want to be the one to set his crew free, fearing their wrath. In any case, he was caught at sea on the return passage, and was consequently executed.

"For sixty years, the pirates in their stronghold have remained untouched, forgotten. Alone with their untold riches, they wait for eternity."

The boy finished, desperately licking his lips, seeking moisture that wasn't there.

Demon rose from his legs, preoccupied. "They don't wait for eternity, James," she said. "They wait for me."

She moved to the table. "I have a present for you, James."

He looked up warily but was unable to hide the hope in his eyes.

The captain picked something off the table and walked back to the boy. He shook his head slowly, helplessly. She pulled his mouth open without resistance, and poured the salt in until it covered his tongue.

Putting the salt down, she shoved his mouth closed and patted him on the head. "Be a good boy and _stay_," she said, and laughed like broken glass, splintered and beautiful and dangerous, and the door slammed shut.

***

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Meanwhile, back in Port Royal

Elizabeth stood patiently, her arms held out, as a covey of seamstresses flitted around her, holding needles, thread, and other sewing oddments. Sighing, Elizabeth looked at her father in the mirror. "Must I really have lace on every inch of the hem?"

Governor Swann answered firmly. "Elizabeth, this is Founder's Day. The day we celebrate the colonizing of our fair island. As the governor's daughter, you will be in full public view, down to every inch of the hem. Therefore, it is _essential_ that you look your best."

"Father," Elizabeth began, rolling her eyes. "No one will be looking at me. In fact, after about eleven 'o clock, no one will be paying attention to much of anything. You _know_ the taverns serve half-price drinks on Founder's Day."

"You will _not_ charm yourself out of this. Your gown must be one of the best in Port Royal, with no exceptions." Swann pointed to something on the gown that Elizabeth couldn't see from her fixed position. "See if you can't fix that, and add in another ribbon," he directed the seamstresses.

Shaking her head with a resigned air, Elizabeth stared at herself in the mirror. The gown was one of the finest she had ever possessed, and yet she refused to enjoy it. All she wanted to do was visit Will, whom she hadn't seen in three days, due to her father. He made sure she was invited to every social party in Port Royal, which kept her running from place to place — or rather, riding elegantly in a carriage from gathering to gathering.

"How long until the fitting is over?" she asked thoughtfully.

"Another quarter-hour or so, miss," answered one of the seamstresses.

Elizabeth began to plan her escape.

***

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Elsewhere in the town

At the moment, the object of Elizabeth's thoughts was immersed in the finishing touches of the final sword. Rubbing the handle with a soft cloth, Will smiled, satisfied with a job well done. The handle seemed to glow in the half-light of the forge, and the blade nearly quivered with suppressed motion.

Placing the sword gently inside its case, Will laid it next to nine others, each an exact copy. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, sighing deeply. _Finally,_ he thought. _The governor's job is done. And just in time, what with Founder's Day being tomorrow!_

The door swung violently open, banging into the wall. Will looked up sharply, straining to see against the brilliant midday sunlight. With the light scorching his corneas, all Will could see was a dark figure standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm just closing," he said, wiping his streaming eyes.

"Aye, but I'm not wantin' a sword, mate," answered the figure.

Will froze. _I know that voice._ Still squinting against the sun, he hastened forward, pulling the man inside before shutting and bolting the door.

"Have you gone mad?" Will hissed. "Do you realize how many people in this city would see you to the gallows?"

Captain Jack Sparrow grinned widely, gold teeth glinting. "When 'ave you ever known me to be sane?"

"You have a point," Will admitted angrily. "I guess a better question would be, have you gone _completely_ mad?"

"I'd 'ave to be mad _not_ to come," Jack said, leaning in conspiratorially. "D'you realize there'll be half-price drinks at _all the taverns in town_ tomorrow?"

Shaking his head disgustedly, Will moved away and sat down. "Of course. I should have guessed."

"That's not the only reason I'm here, of course," Jack continued. "I wanted to check up on ickle William, make sure he's growin' up into a nice, big boy "

"But why did you come _now_?" Will asked desperately.

"I told you. Half-price drinks." Jack cocked his head to the side, peering at Will. "At any rate, why are you so worried?"

"All the ships that sail out of Port Royal will be back here tonight and tomorrow, and all the soldiers they carry walking the streets. And here you come, strolling around in plain sight, the most hunted pirate in the Caribbean!"

"_One of_ the most hunted, actually – there are worse pirates than myself out there." Jack paused. "Or better, dependin' on how you look at it."

Will shook his head again. "No matter. Most of the army has seen your face, or have you forgotten you faced the gallows the last time you graced Port Royal with your presence?"

"I absolutely have not."

"Then you know that those men will arrest you as soon as look at you! This is a disaster," Will groaned.

"I'll repeat my earlier question. At any rate, why are you so worried?"

"Because," Will said, looking straight at Jack. "I may not agree with your lifestyle, or your personal hygienic habits, and I may not like you all the time, or even most of the time, or even–"

"I understand. Finish your thought."

"–but you _are_ my friend. And I try to avoid watching my friends hang." Will paused. "A second time."

"Well, you can rest assured I can take care of meself," Jack told him. "And I'll be here but a day or so." He walked to one of the many sconces in the room and pulled out a sword. "Nice weight. The balance is a bit off, though."

"Put it down."

"Just tryin' to be helpful, mate."

"I still don't understand how you can show up now, after eight months and continued pillaging of both ships and ports, and expect me to be happy to see you," Will remarked. "Or did you think I hadn't heard what you've been up to?"

"It's not just your reaction I was lookin' forward to, mate – or did you think you were the only one I intended to see? I'm also goin' to stop by and see–"

Knocks sounded on the door; someone rattled the handle. "Will?" Elizabeth's voice rang from the doorstep. Will shot upright in his chair. She knocked again. "Why is the door locked?"

"Speak of the devil!" Jack exclaimed, clearly impressed. Will hurtled from his seat. "The lovely Miss Swann!" Will's hand covered Jack's mouth a moment too late.

"What did you say?" Elizabeth sounded uncertain. "Is someone in there with you, Will?"

"If you speak again, I swear you will miss your favorite body part come tomorrow morning," Will hissed in Jack's ear. He raised his voice and answered Elizabeth. "Ahh no, Elizabeth, not, uh really just, um give me a moment," he called vaguely, looking frantically around.

"Why?" The door handle rattled again. "What's going on, Will?"

Will hustled Jack into his back room. "Do not speak," he warned once more.

"You'd better hurry, mate — she sounds a bit testy," Jack remarked, looking faintly amused.

"_Let me in!_" There was a loud bang on the door.

Striding to the door, Will lifted the bolt and pulled it open. "Good day, Elizabeth," he said, forcing a smile.

Elizabeth put one of her hands on his chest and backed him into the shop. "William Turner, you will tell me what's going on, _right now_, or God save you" She let the sentence hang in the air.

"Nothing," Will answered, straight-faced. "Nothing is going on. I was just finishing the last sword of your father's order."

"I don't believe you for one minute!" she accused, but her suspicion was ebbing, and it was almost mock-serious. "You forget, Mr. Turner, that I've known you for years. I can tell when you're hiding something."

Will shrugged. "You must be mistaken."

"Mmm-hmm," she said, moving closer to him looking up into his eyes. "Well, in that case, I believe it's been three days since I've last seen you?"

Smiling, Will moved his face towards hers.

"Oh, so you _are_ still together, then?" Captain Sparrow pushed off from the doorframe where he had been watching them. "That's good to 'ear."

"I knew it!" Elizabeth cried triumphantly, stepping away from Will, who buried his face in his hands. "I knew someone was here!" She paused, scrutinizing Jack. "I didn't know it was you, though. What _are_ you doing here?"

"My lady," Jack said gallantly, avoiding having to answer by sweeping off his hat and bowing low. Elizabeth curtseyed in return, eyeing him. "Wonderful to see you again."

"The feeling is mutual," she returned suspiciously.

There was an awkward silence.

"Now, _why_ are you here?" Elizabeth inquired.

"As I've been informing Will 'ere, there are half-price drinks–"

"Ah, yes," Elizabeth cut in. "I should have anticipated your arrival." She paused. "You do realize you're putting yourself in danger?" Elizabeth stated carefully. "Every soldier knows what you look like. And what of your crew? And the _Pearl_? You would have all of them forfeit so you can get cheaper drinks." It was not a question.

"Yes, I'm aware of all of that. But the _Pearl_ is anchored off Point Granite, and the crew with orders not to approach the town, so they should be fine." He paused. "All right. Here's the deal, mate," Jack began. "I need a place to spend the night. I was countin' on havin' some friends 'ere in town that'd let me stay with them, but they seem to 'ave become fairly angry with me in my absence. So if you find me a place to stay, I promise I won't venture out tomorrow until midday, by which time everyone will 'ave sufficiently drunk enough not to notice me. Savvy?"

Will and Elizabeth exchanged glances.

"Fine," Will answered, his voice taut. "You can stay here."

Jack put his hands together in the familiar gratified prayer gesture.

"But you sleep in the shop," Will added quickly.

"Of course," Jack agreed.

"Will, may I speak with you?" Elizabeth asked. "Privately," she specified, glancing at Jack, who raised his eyebrows innocently. At Will's nod, she led him into the adjoining room and shut the door.

"Do you really think it's smart to let Jack sleep in the shop?" she asked in a low whisper.

"It keeps him off the streets and away from the soldiers. And like he said, everyone will be too drunk to notice him tomorrow. And he'll be gone by tomorrow night." Will shrugged. "It seems the most sensible thing at the moment."

"I suppose," Elizabeth said doubtfully. "In any case, I think I should be returning. I'll have been missed by now." She turned to go, but Will grabbed her hand.

"So quickly? You just arrived!" he protested softly.

"I know. I'm sorry," she said. They exchanged a quick kiss before she opened the door and returned to the shop, sparing one last glance before departing. Jack Sparrow looked on with interest.

As soon as the door closed behind her, he looked at Will expectantly. "When's the wedding?"

Will groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long night.

***

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Well, there you have it. Chapter Two.

It seems to me that Will is just a tad bit out of character, but I'm having problems keeping him true to the movie. Hopefully, it didn't bother you too much, and rest assured that I will keep working on it in future installments.

On the other hand, yay for Captain Jack Sparrow! I hope I did a decent job with him, because I wouldn't want to screw him up

A magnificent amount of thanks go out to everyone who reviewed: EnchantedDreamer1, two lovely anonymous readers, ErinRua, To Heaven, and Krizta. Reviews keep me motivated to write! If you want more, review!

I'll try to write faster, but it's hard, what with school and everything. Know that I have not abandoned my fic!

Also, yay for life in general! I just got back from Pirates of the Caribbean! for the sixth time. My friends call me obsessed; I like to think of it as devoted.

—Lydia


	3. Founder's Day, Part One

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So I'm starting this chapter, having not even posted the last one. It is to be hoped that this means I can post sooner.

UPDATE. Well, that didn't happen. It still took me forever to write this. *sigh*

While you're reading this chapter, please realize that I did the different POV sections purposely small this time. I'm not quite sure why, but I did do it on purpose.

Much love to my forever-wonderful beta, ThePenMage!

Ugh. I think there's a spider in my pajamas. I've got small and itchy bites all over my bum. I'm going to go change my pants. *runs off*

And continuing with a small thing called a plot

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Chapter Three

Founder's Day, Part One

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At the blacksmith's shop

"So what is that you're doin' now?" Captain Jack Sparrow leaned towards the anvil, where Will Turner was working on his latest project.

"It's called 'making a sword' and it's very long and very complicated and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop asking questions!" Will snapped irritably. Jack had been asking irrelevant questions all morning, all of them along the lines of "So what does this do?" or "So how does this work?" Undoubtedly, he was trying to persuade Will to release him on the town at an earlier hour.

Jack raised his hands in mock surrender. "Jus' tryin' to further my store of knowledge," he said pleasantly, and strolled to the window. "It looks as if the entire town is drunk," he observed.

Will gave up trying to work with Jack still in the shop. Shoving the blade back into the forge, he strode through the half-light of the smithy and peered through the window next to Jack.

The town was indeed drunk. It seemed that the entire male population of Port Royal was stumbling through the streets, calling out at any bit of skirt they happened to see. And those wearing the skirts were entirely sober, either.

"Fine," Will sighed. "Go. Have your fun. Buy your rum. Then leave. And take care not to get caught!"

Jack grinned and yanked the door open, strolling out into the street with his customary sway. Will shook his head and turned back to the forge. Glancing at his pocket-watch, he realized that the Founder's Day Ceremony was to begin in less than two hours — as Elizabeth's suitor, he was asked to attend.

Although he wasn't overly fond of the formality that usually accompanied such gatherings, Will had resolved to show up at this one. He thought that perhaps his attendance might soften Governor Swann's feelings towards his courting Elizabeth — the man had been decidedly cold of late.

Will moved through the shop to his room, resigned and ready to wash the grime from his face and hands and dress himself for such an occasion. The one cheerful thought in his mind was that at least he'd be able to see Elizabeth again.

***

__

On board the Deception

Massive splashes marked the lowering of both port and starboard anchors. Captain Demon looked appraisingly at the town of Port Royal, barely visible over a hill of the island.

"Lower one longboat off the starboard side!" she yelled. Winches and pulleys creaked as her orders were obeyed. Another splash signaled that the boat was ready to go.

Her crew thronged around her, awaiting more orders. She surveyed them, her gaze calculating, her sharp mind considering.

"Thatcher," she said finally. "Winchley, Chase, hmm Two-Bit, Pryce, and Thomas. You're with me." She grinned, the ruby in her canine tooth flashing red. "We've a bit of a pinch to make."

Striding to the side of her ship, she climbed down the ladder, breeches billowing in the brisk breeze. Demon moved to the prow of the longboat, waiting as the rest of her impromptu raiding party gathered behind her. At her command, they pushed off from the _Deception_, and strong arms rowed the oars, bringing her closer to her prey with every pull.

Demon smiled again, ruby glinting as she expressed the predatory crazed happiness that she was becoming known for. It was the smile before the kill.

Or in this case, before the kidnapping.

***

__

At the governor's mansion

Elizabeth, too, was readying herself for the Founder's Day Ceremony. Three maidservants fluttered around her, literally stitching the gown to her form. Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at the full-length mirror and glowered at her reflection.

The gown turned out to be one of the most elaborate she had ever worn, a lavender taffeta creation she was mortally afraid of ruining. Seven flounces graced the skirts, which trailed out into a long tail. Lace was sewn on every flounce, as it was along the sleeves, which reached to her forearms, and the neckline, which was noticeably lower than many of her other gowns. The skirts parted in the front to reveal paler purple petticoats, and even more flounces with lace. Tiny pearl buttons marched from the part in the skirt to the neckline. A whalebone corset was included in the bodice, but due to past experience it wasn't laced as tightly as it could have been.

Elizabeth had been standing for over half an hour as her maids tailored her into the perfect presentable daughter that the governor so wanted. The process had not been entirely enjoyable, mostly due to her company.

Anne, a maid Elizabeth found to be particularly trying, had been narrating the entire process. "–and next comes the matching overskirt, oh, doesn't that just look _lovely_?" Anne beamed.

"Mm-hm," Elizabeth answered, tight-lipped.

Meanwhile, another maid, Joanna, was nearly finished with the buttons. She had been unconsciously counting under her breath as she did each one. Emily seemed to be having trouble with the buttons, so each number was drawn out. " forty-thhhrrrrrreee forty-foooouuur"

The third maid, Charity, apparently had a habit of humming nonsensical tunes under her breath. She had been doing so for the past twenty minutes.

Elizabeth was ready to scream.

Finally, a matching purple hat was pinned to her hair, and she was allowed to leave for the ceremony. She rode alone in the carriage, as her father would be entering in a royal carriage, as a formal part of the ceremony. He assured her that he would be along shortly.

***

__

Elsewhere in town

A brisk knock sounded on the smithy's door, and Will strode to open it. Before him stood two soldiers in uniforms of the Royal Navy, and behind them, a carriage festooned with the colors of England.

"Here for the order, sir," announced one soldier smartly.

"Back here," Will answered, leading the way. The soldiers followed him to the table on which all the swords were piled. Each soldier took a case, careful not to put it in the least bit of danger from falling. The cases were stacked carefully and efficiently in the back of the carriage.

After all of the swords were successfully moved, the soldiers climbed in.

"Thank you," one of them said, tipping his hat.

"A moment, before you leave," Will said, frowning slightly. "Just where are you planning to take these?"

"Right up to the governor's mansion," a soldier answered, gesturing to the ceremony grounds. "We're to escort Governor Swann to the Founder's Day Pavilion, and he's to award them during the ceremony."

Will nodded, satisfied. He watched the carriage roll away through the crowded streets, hearing the soldier's shout to clear the way.

Pulling the door to his shop tightly closed behind him, Will walked out into the street. A long cloak billowed as he moved, protecting his best trousers and shirt from the dust of the street. With his hair pulled back into a smart ponytail, Will allowed himself to relax a small bit; in these clothes he could pass for any well-to-do merchant, and wouldn't stand out too much at the ceremony.

He was walking against the flow of the crowd; most townspeople that were still capable of going anywhere were going towards the taverns, and the half-price drinks. Will sidled past crowds of people and sometimes wove through the tables that stood in front of taverns as he tried to find the easiest way to the ceremony grounds.

Turning sideways yet again to edge past the latest group of drunken men, something caught Will's eye. Captain Jack Sparrow sat at one of the many streetside tables, this one in front of the Royal Guardsman, a popular tavern.

Jack was scanning the crowd as he downed a tankard of what was undoubtedly rum. His eyes passed over Will unseeingly, but his gaze immediately returned once he realized who it was. Will inclined his head, and Jack raised his drink in acknowledgement. 

However, the companionable moment soon passed. Jack, seeing the barmaid pass by, eyed her appreciatively before presumably ordering more drink, though his words couldn't be heard through the noise of the crowds. Will shook his head and turned back into the crowd, pushing past a group of intent-looking men and a woman with remarkably red hair.

***

__

At a table in front of the Royal Guardsman

After calling out for more rum, Captain Jack Sparrow turned back to the street, watching the feather of Will's hat melt into the crowd. He shook his head ruefully; the boy was altogether too fond of that hat.

Looking around again, Jack laughed as he watched a royal carriage try and force its way through the crowd. A soldier was shouting orders, but the townspeople were completely disinclined to make way. Consequently, the carriage was making little headway.

Still chuckling softly, Jack lifted his tankard to his lips, only to slam it down irritably on the table when it was rediscovered as empty. He leaned back in his chair, looking for the barmaid.

A finely attuned sixth sense focused Jack's attention on an odd group of people. Pretending to nurse his empty tankard, he peered subtly into the mass of people, his trained eye picking out details.

A band of men — and one woman, he realized — moved with a singular look of purpose. They looked rough around the edges, and the woman was wearing entirely common clothes — common _men's_ clothes.

Shoving people carelessly, the group found the quickest route to be along the side of the street — closer to Jack.

The woman pulled ahead of the men, striding purposefully forward. "Hurry up, mates," she muttered. Since he was concentrating on them, Jack was able to pick out their voices above the general hum of the crowd.

"Righto, Cap'n," answered one of the men. They shoved forward and were soon lost in the crush of people, without noticing that Jack's eye still followed them.

Jack frowned slightly. "Now that's interesting," he murmured to himself. He spent a few seconds in thought before noticing the barmaid close by again. He shrugged, pushed the odd gang of people from his mind, and called out once more, "Woman! More rum! A man's throat could run dry!"

***

__

Outside the governor's mansion

Demon crept through the tangle of trees in front of the governor's mansion, outside the fence. Her spot crew prowled along behind her.

She shook her head. "The people in this town," she sneered. "Get a couple drinks in them and they don't even notice when pirates walk down the main street!" Quiet snickers met her comment.

Demon returned her thoughts to the task at hand. "All right, gents," she said without turning around. "The man we need is in _that_ grand hou—"

She cut herself off, hearing a noise. The rattling of carriage wheels drifted from the down the path. "Hide!" she commanded. Trained as they were, the pirates quickly melted into the surroundings.

What could only be a royal carriage came rolling up the path, wreathed in red and white. As it passed by the place where they crouched in concealment, Demon could faintly make out the only visible soldier muttering to himself.

"—bloody drunkards, no respect for the crown, none at all, I was about to get down and—" The carriage passed out of earshot, through the gate and into the circular drive.

"As I was saying," Demon continued. "The man we need is in tha—" She paused again.

The door to the governor's mansion swung open, revealing a footman and a man in expensively tailored clothes and a formidable wig.

"Governor Swann," greeted the soldier. Your order is inside the carriage, and we are ready to escort you to the ceremony." The governor inclined his head and moved to the carriage, ready to ascend.

Demon made a split second decision. "Pryce, Chase, Two-Bit," she hissed. "Scurry across that path, and we've got the perfect pinch." Three burly men wrestled free of the trees and dashed across the road.

The carriage began to move again, completing the circle in order to exit out the same path — and pass right between Demon's crew. The unsuspecting soldier whistled quietly as he drove the horses.

As the carriage neared, weapons were readied and muscles were tensed. When it drew even with them, the pirates sprang from the forest, Demon vaulting into the driver's seat while her crew pulled open the carriage door.

" 'Ello, mate!" she greeted the soldier cheerfully before sliding her dagger between his ribs. He died with a look of complete confusion.

As the carriage ground to a halt, a gurgle behind her indicated the death of the second soldier. Demon swung down from her perch and peered into the compartment. "You're just the person I wanted to see!" she declared happily.

The governor huddled in a corner, too terrified to tremble. He gazed across to the other seat, where the soldier lay crumpled against the wall, blood pouring from his neck. Governor Swann looked at the fall of blood, watching it splash onto his shoes, and slumped into a dead faint.

Demon grinned. "Well, this makes things considerably easier!" she announced. "See if you can't all fit into there, now, gents." Obediently, the five men squeezed into the compartment, neglecting even to remove the dead man.

"And we'll be back to the Deception in no time!" Demon ended, climbing back up into the driver's seat. She whipped the horses to a canter and headed back to town.

***

****

Well, there you are! I hope you enjoyed. And you _know_ the governor would faint when faced with bloodshed. Look what a weenie he was during the fight on the Dauntless!

Now, I know _exactly_ where I'm going with this fic. (Oh, you better believe it.) So keep checking back! And don't forget to leave your note for posterity (i.e. review)!

-Lydia

PS. Saw IT for the seventh time on Sunday. *sighs contentedly* Life is good.

PPS. For future reference to other writers: Listing the pairing mentioned in the summary gets a LOT less confusing and just overall better looking if you use a slash. (no, not _write_ slash. Let me explain.) For example, instead of saying WillElizabeth or WE or whatever, you write W/E. It really works well. Use this! Spread it! It makes it a lot easier if everyone is on the same page!

Bye again!

-Lydia


	4. Founder's Day, Part Two

****

So this took quite a while to get up. Every time I thought I had it finished, I came up with a new idea, which I then had to set up in this chapter. Yep, this is the set up chapter sort of. Anyway, I definitely like the result. Hope you do too.

I revised a bit in the last chapter, thanks to a suggestion from ErinRua. I'm not sure if it's exactly what I had intended when I started the rewrite, but I like it. Adds a bit of humor to Elizabeth's scenes. You might check it out, if you're so inclined.

---------------

Chapter Four

Founder's Day, Part Two

---------------

__

The Founder's Day Pavilion, 2:00 pm

Will stepped through the temporary doorframe that led into the Pavilion. He halted among the crush of people positioned on the Pavilion, raising his head as he searched for Elizabeth. Will located her quickly; she was standing on a raised platform at the other end of the pavilion, fluttering her fan and looking bored.

He began to make his way through the masses of people, eager to reach his fiancée. Will pushed past men in starched jackets and ladies in crisp skirts. The blend of countless delicate scents assaulted his nose, but he kept his eyes on Elizabeth and continued to edge towards her.

Finally, he reached the platform. Finding a small set of steps, Will climbed to the top of the platform, and Elizabeth. Her face lit up with delight when she saw him coming towards her.

"Will!" she welcomed him, dark eyes radiant. "I was worried you'd decided not to come!"

"You shouldn't have fretted," he answered softly. "I told you that I'd be here, and I'm a man of my word."

"I know," she said, looking into his face. "But allow me my small concerns; I've nothing else to worry about."

Smiling, Will lifted her hand to his lips before they both turned to face the crowd, clasped hands hidden in the folds of Elizabeth's expansive skirt.

***

__

The Royal Guardsman, 2:20 pm

Captain Jack Sparrow threw back his head, swallowing the shot of whiskey in one fiery gulp. He blinked expressively before upending the glass and slamming it onto the table, bringing the total count of upended glasses to eight.

The crowd of people watching burst into cheers, including a scandalously dressed woman that looked smugly amazed to have found a seat in Jack's lap. A burly man sitting across the table glared blearily at Jack through the hair of his own woman and over his own eight glasses.

"And that's another one, Juliana, love," Jack told the woman. She leaned forward, giving him a long kiss, complete with plenty of tongues and groping.

"Enough!" snarled Jack's opponent. He snatched another shot glass off the tray and held it to his lips for a second before tipping it backwards and down his throat. Shaking his head faintly, he turned over his glass and slammed it down. "And it's one more for me," he growled drunkenly, turning to his woman for his reward.

Jack's hand tightened around Juliana's waist. "We can't have you winnin' now, can we?" he addressed the man. Quickly, he grabbed a glass and tipped it into his mouth. The crowd roared, and several more people shoved money onto the table, joining the substantial amount that was there before.

"He'll drink ol' John to the floor, he will!" proclaimed one of the spectators.

Quirking an insolent eyebrow at the man sitting across from him, Jack pulled Juliana tightly to him. The man seized another glass and gulped it down, glaring at the pirate as he did so. He shook his head slightly as if to clear it, before announcing in the way that only drunk people can, "That's my tenf— my thenf— more than you!" He grabbed his woman as well.

Jack shook his head tragically, eyeing the man critically. He grabbed a shot glass, downed it, kissed Juliana, grabbed another glass, downed it, kissed Juliana again, then grabbed a _third_ glass, downed _that_ one, and kissed Juliana yet again. The tavern filled with a massive roar.

Disentangling himself from Juliana's mouth, he looked smugly across the table at his opponent. "Dare to continue?"

The man snarled again in reply. He grabbed a glass and swallowed the contents, then reached for another. But before he could raise it to his lips, the man blinked twice and stared indistinctly at Jack before his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed, the alcohol finally overtaking him.

The crowd roared. Quickly, Jack swept his winnings off the table and into his hat before lifting Juliana easily off his lap and standing. "What say we find a more private place to celebrate?" he murmured. She giggled agreeably. "Gents, I'm off," he announced, tapping fingers to his head in a salute. Knowing glances were exchanged among the spectators; the amount of money Jack had just won was substantial, and the woman was certainly no lady.

Together, Jack and Juliana sauntered out the door to the busy street beyond, his arm draped comfortably around her waist. No one in the tavern paid any more attention than was due – some people were still collecting on bets, others were placing new ones on a shot contest that had started on the opposite side of the tavern.

Immediately upon exiting the tavern, Jack and the woman separated. Jack offered the hat to her, and she picked out approximately half the winnings. He grabbed the rest, shoved them into his pocket, and set the hat back on his head. "Always a pleasure," he said, grinning.

Juliana smiled back. "You're jus' lucky I can 'old 'alf as much liquor as that great brute of a man, and lucky that people don't watch closely when a man gets a kiss," she retorted, fiddling with the gold.

"Aye," Jack agreed. "And lucky that we've done the same trick before. The drink I take goes down your throat–"

"And we both end up wiv' more gold for it," she finished. She slid a hand down the neck of her dress. Jack raised his eyebrows. "Secret pocket, love," she chided, shaking her head. "I'd've thought you'd be able to see that'n. Not gonna jus' totter around all day wiv' my money in a dress pocket, then, am I?" Without any more words, she inclined her head and turned to walk away.

"Juliana!" Jack called after her. She whirled around. "Why are you leavin'? I'm sure we could, ah," – he looked her up and down – "Find _something_ amusin' t'do."

The woman's eyes flashed. "I'll not bed you yet, Sparrow," she retorted. "I got meself a job now – a proper job, in a nice pub, the _Laughin' Dog_. Find y'self another to take your gold." Spinning on her heel, she walked away without a second glance.

"Worth a try," muttered Jack, turning away himself. He reeled as he began to walk; for all that he could hold his alcohol, the better part of twelve shots of whiskey was enough to make him stagger.

Frightened cries caused him to look up instinctively, squinting as he tried to get his bearings. A carriage careened down the narrow street with no regard for those around it. People ran to get out of its way before being crushed below iron shod wheels.

Jack, safely on the walkway, glanced at the carriage as it hurtled past. He noticed unthinkingly that it was the same one he'd seen earlier, decorated with royal colors for the Founder's Day Ceremony.

Not only that, he suddenly realized, it was driven by the strange woman. Peering at her as she tore past, he saw her head thrown back, as if she was screaming with laughter, although it was too loud to hear if she was. Her hair flew behind her, and as she laughed, something caused a red glint to appear in her teeth.

Something tweaked in Jack Sparrow's mind, a memory of a rumor he thought he had forgotten. His eyes widened. "But what might she be doin' in Port Royal?" he muttered to himself.

His brain fogged with whiskey, he couldn't think and walk at the same time. Locating the nearest tavern, Jack fell into a chair, his brow furrowed in serious thought as he watched the carriage veer dangerously through the narrow avenue.

The carriage turned on the road that led to Point Noir, leaving a small whirling dust devil as the only trace of its passage.

The irony was not lost on Captain Jack Sparrow.

***

__

The Pavilion, 3:35 pm

The Jamaican sun was reaching its zenith. It beat down relentlessly on the gathering of people, growing hot enough that even those born and raised on the island felt it. The humidity was rapidly rising, and wasn't helped by the hundred or so people doing nothing but standing around and perspiring. Walls around the outside of the pavilion caught the heat and held it, creating an atmosphere not unlike that of an oven.

"This is getting ridiculous!" Elizabeth said heatedly. "It's been over an hour! _What _is going on?" She flapped her fan violently, the resulting breeze blowing wildly across her face and teasing her hair free of its pins.

Will sighed. "It'll start soon. It must."

As he gazed over the crowd, Will's eye caught on a flash of red and white. Focusing on the movement was an effort – it was so hot he felt even his eyeballs were sweating. He finally made out two men dressed in the uniform of the Royal Navy pushing through the crowd. They seemed to be making their way towards the entrance to the Pavilion.

Will lightly nudged Elizabeth with his elbow. When she turned to face him, he nodded his head toward the sailors. They watched in silence as the two men located a stairwell. Taking the stairs two at a time, the men were greeted at the top by a man whose figure Will immediately recognized.

"Commodore Norrington is here?" he asked Elizabeth.

"Of course. He's one of the most important people in Port Royal, aside from my fath–" She stopped. Her fan faltered in its movements. Will glanced at her to see her staring into space. She finished her sentence without looking at him. "Aside from my father."

Will's attention was drawn back to the two men and the Commodore. They appeared to be in a heated discussion, drawn closely into a circle. Moments later, the two sailors turned away. One man began trotting the perimeter of the wall, spending a few seconds speaking to every guard posted. The other man ran down the stairs and through the doorframe. Will could see just enough of the sailor's movements to conclude that he mounted a horse and rode off.

Will's brow furrowed. The men were moving with urgency. "Something is going on," he whispered to Elizabeth.

"Yes, Will, I know. I'm not a dolt." Her reply was clipped, harsh and angry.

He glanced at her, clearly surprised at her uncharacteristic tone. "Is everything all right, Eliz–"

"Everything is wonderful," she said aggressively. "Why wouldn't it be? What possible reason do I have to be anything less than perfectly fine?"

Will stared at her, an almost physical pain shining in his dark eyes. "I– I'm sorry," he murmured. "Whatever I did– I didn't mean to upset you."

She looked at him then, and relented. She laid a hand to his face. "No, it's I who should apologize. I'm sorry, Will," she told him softly. She sighed, laying her head on his shoulder in a rare public display of affection. Will cautiously lifted his arms to encircle her slight frame. "It's just—" She faltered. He felt her take a deep breath. "Where is my father?"

***

__

The city, 3:40 pm

Jack still sat in the same chair. He head had rolled back in sleep – although he had not passed out, he couldn't stay awake. His feet were propped on another chair, and in front of him was a mug almost full of rum, which he had bought to placate those who wanted him to move since he wasn't buying.

"Oy, look at this!" a voice cried, loud and close enough to pull free of the general chaotic chatter. "Hawthorne, look here!"

Jack swam through layers of sleep and alcohol, trying to remember where he was. Leaning forward, he opened his eyes, blinking blearily as he focused.

"Would you look at that?" said a second voice. "He was napping!"

Jack focused in front of him. Two men in red and white approached his table, their hands hovering over their pistols. Jack's eyes widened.

"Why, do you know what that is?" said the first man.

The second man, Hawthorne, replied, "I surely do. Isn't it a pirate?"

"Ahh, but which pirate, Hawthorne?" asked the first man.

"Bloody hell," Jack muttered to himself. "Swabs with a sense of whimsy." They didn't hear him.

"You have a point, Dunmore," acknowledged Hawthorne. They were close enough now that they stopped walking. "There are many pirates. But I remember this one quite clearly."

"As do I," Dunmore replied, smirking. "The one and only Jack Swallow!"

A look of dismay crossed Jack's face.

"The same Jack Swallow we saw trip over a balcony wall a few months ago?" said Hawthorne.

"The same Jack Swallow that escaped the gallows the last time he was here?"

"The same Jack Swallow we're supposed to arrest if we lay eyes on him?"

"I wonder what he's doing here?"

"Oh, I definitely think we have a good idea."

"Jack Swallow is known for just such bold maneuvers, it is true."

"That's bloody enough, mates," Jack interrupted. "First off, it's _Captain_ Jack–"

"Shut your mouth, pirate!" snarled Dunmore.

"And secondly, my name is–"

"Right, that's it from you," said Hawthorne, trying to look menacing. Dunmore jingled a pair of irons.

They moved closer, grinning. Dunmore leaned in close on his right side. "I hope you like the jail."

Hawthorne leaned in on Jack's left side. "Because that's where you're going."

Jack's eyes flicked back and forth between the two soldiers. "Just got something to tell you boys before you clap me in irons." He grinned. "You're a magnificent pair of idiots."

He grabbed the backs of their heads and smashed them together. The two men collided with a resounding crack, the impact immediately knocking them both out. They fell to the ground, limbs sprawled haphazardly.

Quickly, Jack bent and grabbed their pistols, hanging them awkwardly from his belt. He took off running, shoving past the shocked crowd that had gathered. Some of them tried clumsily to grab him, but none succeeded.

He sprinted down the street, looking for somewhere to hide. God knew why, but the soldiers were in the city. The blow he had given the two men wouldn't be enough to keep them unconscious for long.

Suddenly Jack ground to a halt. Turning around, he walked quickly and faced a building. He stared up at the signboard, a picture of a dog with his mouth open in laughter.

***

__

The Pavilion, 3:45 pm

"Look," Will whispered to Elizabeth. "The man who rode away just returned." Elizabeth didn't answer, but watched with haunted eyes.

Dismounting outside the Pavilion, the sailor rushed through the doorframe and up the stairs. Commodore Norrington turned quickly, presumably hearing the man's approach. They stood together in a heated discussion. Will watched Norrington raise his hands to his temples as if his head was in pain.

Lowering his hands, Norrington went down the stairs. He began to make his way through the crowd, having a much easier time of it than Will had; People saw the Commodore's uniform and stood aside. He seemed to be aiming for the platform, and sure enough, he stopped when he reached it.

The Commodore gracefully stepped onto the platform, bypassing the stairs in what seemed to be a carefully contained haste. Straightening to his full height, Norrington called, "Excuse me." Those eyes who were not already following his passage through the crowd immediately turned to him.

Norrington continued once he was sure he had everyone's attention. "Unfortunately, due to unanticipated problems, the Founder's Day Ceremony is being postponed. I can only give my sincerest apologies for calling you out here for no reason. I suggest you get home and stay out of the heat. Thank you for your attention." He stepped away from the edge.

The Pavilion erupted in shocked whispers. Elizabeth took a few quick steps forward and grabbed the Commodore's arm, abandoning propriety.

"Commodore, what is going on?" she said quietly.

He smiled tightly, not even looking at her; clearly he was preoccupied. "Nothing of import, Miss Swann."

"Bollocks," she tensely shot back at him, tightening her grip on his arm. "You listen to me, Commodore, and you listen well. You have called off the Founder's Day Ceremony indefinitely— not something that happens often or actually, _ever_, to my recollection. You look as if you're seeing nightmares. My father has not arrived yet. Now. Tell me what is going on."

Norrington slowly turned to look at her as if noticing her for the first time. His face clouded for a moment, until he shook his head slightly. "Yes, of course, Elizabeth. I— I had forgotten that you were, ah— you. I'll tell you, but I must insist that we move to a place where we are less likely to be overheard."

Without waiting for her response, he walked away from the crowd, jumping down from the raised platform. Elizabeth followed suit, earning the scandalized looks of a few of the more conservative women around them. Will followed closely behind them.

The trio soon came across a secluded area behind a bend of the rocky wall. Norrington turned to face them. "Elizabeth–" he began, but halted upon seeing Will for the first time. That, more than anything, told Will that whatever had happened was serious. The Commodore was not one to let details slip, and the fact that he had not noticed Will on the platform was a sign of his distraction.

Norrington's gaze returned to Elizabeth. "I assume it is permissible for Master Turner to be privy to the discussion?"

"I trust him with my life, Commodore," Elizabeth answered fixedly. "And he has saved it, as you well know. He has saved your own life as well, by proxy."

"Yes. Of course." Norrington glanced at Will again. While the two men had not become close friends, each acknowledged the other's role in the events of eight months ago. There was a definite sense of grudging respect between them.

"Elizabeth, Master Turner," he began, taking a deep breath. "I am about to disclose as-yet-unreleased information, so please, treat it accordingly." He paused, looking at Elizabeth with distress. "As you seem to have guessed, the governor, your father, is missing."

Elizabeth's brow tightened. She inhaled slowly.

The Commodore continued. "I don't know what has happened, but in these situations it is protocol to assume the worst."

"Are you–" Elizabeth's voice caught. "Are you sure he didn't just lose track of time? Did you check the house? He could be–"

"Yes, Elizabeth, it was the first thing we did. We're not amateurs," he replied with a tinge of heat in his voice, but the anger was not directed at them. "The footman saw him out the door and into the carriage. Something must have happened to him between the house and the pavilion."

"What are you doing to find him?" Will asked, his first words since Norrington had told them.

"Everything I can, Turner," he answered grimly. "Excepting the guards that were previously posted, I've called out the entire company of Her Majesty's Navy that is stationed in Port Royal. They are scouring the roads, the woods, the city" Norrington trailed off, seeing Will's eyes widen. "What is it?"

Recovering, Will's lips curved into a strained smile. "It seems rather a lot."

The Commodore shook his head. "I will admit that I'll feel foolish if it turns out that a carriage horse threw a shoe, or some such thing. But I'm inclined to think differently.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth, Master Turner. I must go. My presence is needed in the search." He inclined his head and strode off, purpose flashing in his dark eyes.

The betrothed pair was silent as he walked away. Once Norrington was out of earshot, Will whirled to face Elizabeth. "Elizabeth, Jack is somewhere out there! You heard the Commodore; the army is scouring the city. They'll find him for sure!"

"I haven't forgotten about Jack Sparrow," she replied, slowly and deliberately.

Will stared at her. "You don't– You can't think that–"

"Will, he's a pirate! Had _you_ forgotten? He's always been fairly decent around either of us, but he is first and foremost a pirate! I just– I don't know!" she finished miserably.

Will was silent. The thought that Jack could be involved in Governor Swann's disappearance hadn't occurred to him.

"Either way, our course is clear," Elizabeth stated. "We must find Captain Jack Sparrow."

***

****

Wow, that was a long chapter. Leave me a review, loves!

I posted this without a beta, so if you noticed any mistakes, please alert me!

Thanks for reading, everyone! Love you all, but especially

Elderberry: *looks sheepish* You caught me, love. Yes, I've read Good Omens. I just loved that line about sauntering vaguely downward so much that I had to use it. But what are you talking about with the blood-licking? Where was that?

Lip Balm: Thanks for saying I portray Jack well. I hope I continued with the goodness in this chapter!

Kayden Eidyak: Yes, that was fairly trippy, and I apologize. I hope you liked!

Vienna1: Sadly, I'm not planning on getting Bootstrap in here. It was my understanding he was dead. Er just between you and me, pet, maybe you want to check the spelling of what you write?

Mojave Dragonfly: I'm glad my POV switches aren't confusing. And I still need to read the last chapter of your fic oops.

helgz: Thank you!

chris: Hope you enjoyed!

ErinRua: You of all people know how much effort this took. Thanks for everything, and I hope you liked the end result!

AerinBrown: Sadly, no pirates in this chapter. But perhaps some in the next

If you've noticed, I only replied to those who reviewed yes, I admit, I'm bribing the readers. But come on! How much effort does it take! Let me know what you think!

Well, I'm off. Farewell, loves, and stay away from undead pirates!

-Lydia


	5. Reunion

****

I'M BACK! 

I've figured out why it takes so long for me to update! Along with being a work in progress, AND along with having an unbelievable amount of homework each night, I write the chapters in longhand, then type them on a typewriter, _then_ type them into the computer. I'm going to try and eliminate the typewriter step; hopefully it will make things shorter. But I wouldn't count on it.

And I'm VERY proud of this chapter. I hope you like it as well.

---------------

Chapter Five

Reunion

---------------

Groaning, Weatherby Swann fought through a clinging darkness and regained consciousness. His head throbbed violently, and when he opened his eyes the light of a single candle shot through to his brain in a blinding agony. He impulsively squinted, letting his eyes grow used to the light as an unfamiliar room swam into focus.

The room was gently rocking back and forth. Thinking it was a side effect of his unconsciousness, he stared forward, disoriented. It almost felt like a ship.

Blinking blearily, the governor of Port Royal tried to remember what had happened, where he was.

"Glad to see you're up," purred a soft voice from behind him.

Swann jumped from his chair in surprise. He whirled around to face the voice, realizing that he was unrestrained. The movement made his head throb even more. Reactively, he shook his head slightly in a motion that caused even more pain.

When he was able to think coherently once again, he found himself facing a woman with red hair and a dangerous smile.

Finally, memories came flying back. Founder's Day – the carriage – oh God, the carriage, the soldier, the blood –

Swann looked down. Blood had dried in a brownish crust over his patent leather shoes, flaking off when he moved his legs.

The woman watched him, still smiling. "We're honored to have you on board," she said. "I'm Captain Desdemona Blake, and you're in the finest cabin aboard the finest ship of criminals, corsairs and cutthroats that sails the Caribbean – the _Deception_!"

She leaned in close. "But please, call me Captain Demon. I find it much more fitting. It's the middle of my name, y'see. The middle tells all – everyone knows that." Swann stared at the woman in open-mouthed shock. She was obviously far from possessing a sound mind.

Demon continued to talk. "What's the middle of your name, Governor Swann?" Her grin widened, red stone glinting in her tooth. "The middle of your name is 'wan,' Governor." Demon stood up. "It fits you."

"What do you want with me?" Swann whispered, his voice cracking with panic. He was the prisoner of clearly unstable female pirate captain.

The woman reached out a hand, caressing his cheek. Swann flinched and jerked away, and she laughed. "Oh, you'll see yet, my friend. You have a grand purpose among us" she whispered the word, "pirates." She laughed again when he flinched again.

She kicked the chair again, turning him around once more. Swann groaned with the movement.

"I don't know why you're in such pain," she said, disgusted. "All you did was _faint._" The governor sputtered shamefully.

"If there's anything you need" she began, staring at him with commonplace gray eyes as she walked backwards to a door surrounded by tapestries. "Think about how much you wish you had it. Oh, and if you try anything well, we have people that can carry you." She reached behind her and opened the door, then slid out with a predatory grace, pulling it tightly shut with a click.

Swann watched the door, unsure whether she was truly gone.

"She won't return," came another disembodied voice. This time it was in front of him. "Not for some time."

"Who's there?" Swann cried. "Show yourself!" _Not more pirates, please_, he thought despairingly.

Movement drew his gaze to a spot not four feet in front of him. What the governor had taken for a pile of clothes unfolded and revealed itself as a young man.

"A prisoner," the governor breathed. Relief washed over him.

"I don't suppose you'll untie my ropes," said the boy, his voice raspy. Sure enough, his hands were bound with ropes that had rubbed his wrists raw. They connected to the wall but allowed him some freedom.

Swann shook his head. "She'll punish me," he said, looking away.

The man smiled, his chapped lips cracking and bleeding. "She'll punish you anyway."

The governor was not a courageous man. He stayed where he was, sitting in place. "Are you a prisoner of that Demon-woman as well?"

"A prisoner of sorts, I suppose."

"Speak clearly, boy! What the devil does that mean?" Swann's impatience fed his temper, combining with his expectation of obedience from others.

"Prisoners are allowed to leave. They are released, or escape, or are killed."

Swann stared at him. "And that won't happen to you?" The boy shook his head. "And what of me? Do you know what she intends with me?"

"You have a purpose. And then you'll be released."

"She'll let me go."

The boy smiled.

Swann frowned. Clearly this was a ship full of lunatics. "What's wrong with you?"

" 'Tis been three days since I last drank," the boy rasped. "She feeds me salt pork and hardtack and drinks water in front of me."

Governor Swann shuddered convulsively. "What did you do?" he whispered.

"Hard to say. But you are the one, aren't you? The King of Port Royal. It's you. You're a king. You have to be."

Swann blinked at the sudden change of subject. "I'm only the governor. I'm not a king." He chuckled. "If anyone, 'twas–"

He broke off, staring at the boy. "How– What are you–"

"You're the one with the key. The King of Port Royal."

"Holy Mary, mother of God," Swann breathed. "Who are you? How do you know what it is that you know?"

"I found the manuscript. You must know of it." The boy's voice had been steadily weakening. He looked close to passing out again.

"It was a tale he made up" Swann whispered, lost in memories. "But who _are _you?"

"James," he said weakly, head lolling back. "James Burbank."

"Not– not the son of Charles Burbank–" Swann stammered.

"The very same," said James Burbank, son of Charles, and promptly passed out.

***

"Elizabeth, we must stop! This is madness!"

Elizabeth ignored Will's voice from behind her. She strode forward resolutely, pushing past the crowd.

"Elizabeth!" Will's hand gripped her elbow and spun her around to face him. "We must stop!"

She pulled free, defiantly glaring up at him. "I refuse–"

Will cut her off by clamping his blacksmith's hand over her mouth. "No. You need to listen. You need to _stop_ looking. It's almost full dark, and I don't trust this crowd, not with the amount of liquor they've consumed. They won't even recognize the governor's daughter, and I can't protect you forever if someone takes a mind to take you. Jack Sparrow, wherever he is, refuses to be found, at least tonight. And are you forgetting that almost the entire Royal Navy stationed in Port Royal is keeping an eye out for him? They will be able to track him down much better than we _ever_ could."

Will withdrew his hand. "Do you understand?" he asked gently. "This is not a task for you or I."

"Will, I can't just stop looking, can't you understand that?" Elizabeth said vehemently, the words sounding like they were wrenched from her chest. "My _father_ is missing! I can't just _stop_! I can't leave him! I can't!"

To her shame she felt tears trickle down her cheek, the first she had allowed. Angrily wiping them away, Elizabeth continued her tirade. "The one man who may know something, _anything_, is in this city, and I _must_ find him! I _must_!" The tears kept coming.

She looked up and saw her pain mirrored in Will's eyes. He reached out and brushed a tear from her face, then hesitantly drew her into the circle of his arms. Elizabeth finally allowed herself to be comforted, and they stood together on a dusty street in their Founder's Day finery while she sobbed silently, her fears and frustrations ripping themselves free.

Finally, she finished crying, taking huge gulps of air in hiccuping breaths. Pulling away, Elizabeth left behind a damp patch on Will's coat, discolored where her makeup had been smeared.

"Let's get you home," Will said gently.

The thought of her house caused another sob to tear free of her. To be in that house, without her father safe in the next room she couldn't do it.

"I can't," she said, shaking her head. "I can't stay at home. Not tonight."

"Elizabeth, you must–"

"Not tonight!"

Will hesitated, then jerked his head in acquiescence. "Very well. Where will you stay?" He began walking. Elizabeth stared off to the side numbly as she began to walk, watching a woman help her drunken friend down an alley.

"Take me— take me back to the shop," she said quietly.

"Elizabeth, are you sure—" Will broke off at the sight of her face's adamant lines. Will, sighed and resumed. "Fine," he said tightly. "You may use the bed. I'll sleep on the floor."

Elizabeth slowed, then stopped completely, causing Will to stop with her. Slowly, she raised her eyes to his. "Will, I—" she whispered haltingly, looking into his eyes. She didn't continue.

"Yes?" Will inquired, his voice dangerously neutral.

"Did you notice those two ladies?" she asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"What?" he stammered, startled. "Oh. Yes. The drunk woman and her friend."

"That's what I saw, too," Elizabeth said triumphantly. She turned, pulling free of Will's hand and taking off down the street, peering down every side street as she sought the alley the women went down.

After a few seconds of surprised silence Will ran after her. "_What_ are you _doing?_ What matter do they make?"

"Will, the drunk one was wearing boots!" Elizabeth shouted. She suddenly gave a shout of success and disappeared from view, down the alley.

Her voice floated back to Will. "Oy! Come out, you!"

Will hesitated but a few seconds before chasing his love as she hurtled down the very dark alley.

Running headlong down the shadowy way, Elizabeth tripped multiple times over piles of refuse. She heard fabric tear and a sudden rush of air blew against her upper leg.

A hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed her, violently pulling her to the side. Elizabeth yelped in surprise, then froze at the sudden feeling of cold metal against her neck.

"Wot's a lady like y'self doin' seekin' out two Jennys?" asked a low feminine voice over her right shoulder.

Elizabeth swallowed, feeling her throat move against the metal.

"Where are you, Elizabeth? Have you fallen?" Will came running down the alley, unexpectedly crashing into Elizabeth and her unknown captor and knocking them both to the ground.

Elizabeth felt the metal dig into her throat and managed a small cry before her head snapped back and cracked against the cobblestones.

The woman shoved her limp body to the side and sat up, annoyed. "Bloody hell, boy!"

Will jumped to his knees and went to Elizabeth. "Are you all right? Oh God, what have you done to her?"

The woman snorted. " 'Tis wot you did, mate. You pushed me straight over."

"She's knocked out," Will said accusingly.

Shrugging, she retorted, "Better'n dead."

A voice rang through the alley. "You down there! We heard a shout; is everything all right?"

"Shite!" swore the woman. She stood and started running down the alley. She slowwed and turned, looking at Will as he still knelt by Elizabeth. Frustration and decency showed themselves in her face. She finally said, "Fine, then, follow me."

"What?" Will was incredulous.

"I can't jus' leave you t'be found by 'hoever 'tis up there with you standin' over an unconcious woman, and your lady obviously wanted t'speak t'me. So _follow_ me." She moved off, muttering, " 'Alfwit."

Will manouvered Elizabeth's slack body into his arms and stood up clumsily. He struggled for a second before finding his balance and striding after the woman.

After a short time the woman moved to the side and knocked on the door, then opened it.

"We've company!" she singsonged. "Ja— Jacqueline, a couple o' children followed us 'ome, can we keep'm?

"Look," Will began, appropriately upset, "you invited me to follow you; I wanted nothing more to do with you! You're the one that knocked out Elizabeth. We'll be out of here just as soon as she wakes up, so until then, hold your tongue!"

"Bless me, is that the dulcet voice of young William Turner?"

Will's jaw dropped.

Captain Jack Sparrow sauntered out of another room. His saunter was slightly less smug than could be expected due to the fact that he was dressed in a lacy pink dress and matching bonnet.

The woman stared at Jack, but not for the same reasons Will stared. "You _know_ this man?"

"Aye, but of course. Here, Will, you can put your lady love in the bed until she wakes," Jack said, moving aside to reveal a small bedroom. His skirts brushed the doorframe.

Will's mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out. Finally he shook his head and walked into the other room, muttering, "Whatever the explanation is, I _don't_ want to know it." He laid Elizabeth lovingly on the bed and returned to the other room, and the company of two dubious characters.

"It's easy enough to explain, innit?" Jack remarked. "The sailors are lookin' for a fairly distinctive male, not an inebriated female. Hence the dress," he explained with an expansive gesture.

" 'Twas a miracle 'e fit," added the woman.

"Who _is_ she?" Will asked, glancing at the woman. "Because most of the women you seem to know like slapping you more than helping you," he added smugly.

"She's Juliana," said Jack. "She's"

"And _what_ is she?" Will asked, ignoring the dirty look Juliana shot at him.

"She's" Juliana quirked an eyebrow. "Juliana," Jack finished lamely.

"It's time for some explanations, Will," he went on. "Why is everyone and their uncle searching for me as if I've committed a crime?" Will looked at him. "A significant crime committed recently, and here in town," Jack amended.

"I'll tell you right now, Jack: If you've any part in this, _at all_, if you knew about it beforehand or helped in _any _way, I will turn you over to the Navy myself," Will told him quietly.

Jack was silent for a moment. "Not an idle threat, comin' from you. But I swear on me honor, I know nothin' of this uproar; the only thing I've done today is petty fraud."

Will studied him carefully, then nodded abruptly. "I believe you. But if I ever find out differently, I will hunt you down and kill you myself."

Jack frowned. "What the _devil_ is going on, Turner? You're in such a mood as I've never seen, not even when Elizabeth was taken."

"Can you trust your Juliana?" Will asked, glancing at her.

"With my life," Jack answered. "More than once."

Juliana smirked. "Lucky for you lads, I don't want t'be in on the secrets. I'll go wait with the lady, help calm 'er down when she wakes." She walked into the other room.

Will moved closer to Jack. "The governor is missing, presumably kidnapped. As of now, Jack, you're the most likely suspect, what with you having kidnapped his daughter the last time you were in town."

Jack's eyes had widened as Will spoke. "Why?" he asked.

"Why what? Why was the governor kidnapped? No one knows. There's been no ransom so far, no murder that we can tell, just the governor gone."

All at once a shriek sounded in the other room. "Someone save me!" Elizabeth cried. "I'm–" Her voice was suddenly muffled, as if someone had thrust their hand over it.

Will jumped to his feet and ran into the bedroom. Elizabeth lay where he had placed her. She glared at him over Juliana's hand, silenced thus for the second time that day.

"Can you hol' back th' bellows?" Juliana asked caustically. Elizabeth nodded, and she removed her hand.

"_What _is going _on_?" Elizabeth exploded. "Someone bett–"

Juliana sighed and replaced her hand. "I tol' you t'cork up."

"Elizabeth, it's all right," Will assured her. She burst out in muffled shouts.

Jack rolled around the doorframe, showing himself to her for the first time. Elizabeth's eyes widened, but then a smug look stole over her eyes.

"I think she's all right now," Will told Juliana, and she removed her hand once again. They could see that the smugness extended across her entire face.

"I knew it was you!" she proclaimed triumphantly. "I knew it!"

"Did you, now!" Jack said, visibly impressed. "And how, exactly, did you reach that rather strange conclusion?"

"I saw the way you walked, and I guessed. And then I saw your boots, and I knew."

Jack looked regretfully down at the worn leather toes of his boots that poked out from under his skirts. "I knew they were visible," he admonished Juliana.

"Your feet are too big to fit into any of _my_ shoes," she retorted, shrugging.

Jack nodded ruefully, then turned his attention back to Elizabeth. "I hear your pater has gone missing."

"Will told you." Her eyes flashed. "Sparrow, if you have played _any_ part in this, _any_ part at all, I will see you hang for it, I promise you now."

"Tonight is a night for death threats, innit, love?" Jack said aside to Juliana.

"Don't call me love," she answered, in such a way that it was clear she had said it many times before.

"I called you love when we were in the tavern."

"_That_ was an exception. We were playing roles."

"Jack!" Elizabeth yelled.

"Right, now, Miss Swann. As I have already informed your dutifully overprotective and outraged blacksmith, I knew nothing of it. I give you my word."

Huffily, Elizabeth began, "The word of a pirate—"

"—is not given lightly, and should be honored as if it were that of a governor's daughter, or that of a noble blacksmith," Jack finished, his eyes flashing in a rare show of temper. "Just because we cheat, lie, and steal does not mean we have no sense of honor."

"Well, excuse me for thinking otherwise," Elizabeth responded sardonically.

"An honorable pirate," Will said, with just a touch of scorn in his voice.

"There are some about, Mister Turner. And before we go valuing honor and loyalty, let's not forget who cracked me over the head with an oar during our last adventure," Jack shot back.

Will colored.

"When 'e gives 'is word, 'e means it," Juliana put in. "You can trust 'im."

"And _you!_" Elizabeth shouted. "_You_ were trying to kill me! You had a knife!"

Juliana sighed. " 'Twas the 'andle of a spoon, miss." She produced said spoon. "I carry a knife, but not for misguided young ladies." Elizabeth flushed.

"While I did not have a part in it, Elizabeth, I _may_ know something that could help you," Jack continued slyly.

"Don't toy with me right now, Jack, _do not._"

"There was a woman floating about town this afternoon who matched the description of the pirate ship _Deception_," he said simply.

Elizabeth's jaw dropped. Will blinked. Juliana groaned. "Not Demon Blake."

"The very same," Jack said grimly.

"She laid waste to my father's friend Charles," Elizabeth said dazedly. "Razed their manor to the ground, sowed salt in their plantation fields, killed everyone there – even the mistress of the manor, even the four year old daughter, even the servants. The bodies of his son and his maidservant were never even found."

"It's too big of a coincidence that she's here to make me believe it's coincidence," Jack said plainly.

Will nodded. "I agree. But the problem is convincing the Navy. It's also a coincidence that you're here, Jack."

"I wish you good luck," Jack said, saluting.

Will rolled his eyes and helped Elizabeth from the bed. "Do you believe him?" he asked her, one last time.

She nodded, her eyes never leaving the pirate's. "I do. Now let's go convince the Navy."

They walked to the door. "Ta," said Jack. Juliana waved.

Will pulled open the door.

"I wondered when you'd be leaving, Mister Turner," said Commodore Norrington from the street.

***

****

Yes, a cliffhanger. I'm sorry! I just wanted to get this chapter posted SO BADLY.

And reviewer replies next chapter. (see explanation above.)

Hope you enjoyed!

-Lydia


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